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St
Margaret, Felbrigg

At
the start of August 2005, I spent two days with
Tom exploring churches in the Cromer area. We
visited about thirty of them, but the days
themselves can be contrasted by the weather - the
first day was overcast with occasional showers of
drizzle, the second a day of bright sunshine and
wide open skies.

A portent of the summer to
come, then, but what the days had in common was
that we started both of them at estate churches,
by which I mean churches in the grounds of a big
house rather than some unfortunate corner of
Cromer suburbia. On day two we would try and find
the church in the grounds of Gunton Hall
against all the odds, but today it was the turn
of Felbrigg Hall.

Felbrigg
Hall must be one of the loveliest of the big Norfolk
houses. It dates from the 15th century, and you can see
the south front in Tom's picture above. Now in the care
of the National Trust, it was the home of the historian
Robert Ketton-Cremer, and before him other Ketton-Cremers
and Windhams, who long ago were de Felbriggs. They have
left their mark on the church in a big way, for it has
one of the biggest and best collections of brasses in all
of Norfolk, and this in a part of the county where every
parish church, even the smallest and plainest, seems to
have its figure brass.

Ketton-Cremer
was the last of the line: after him, the house came into
the care of the National Trust. But as well as the House
he left behind a fascinating legacy, his work Felbrigg: Story of a House. This
documents the history of the building and its people over
six hundred years of history, which would be interesting
enough; but Ketton-Cremer wrote like an angel. This is a
wonderful book, quite the best evocation of life down the
centuries in a Norfolk community that I have ever come
across, and a moving testament to one man's exploration
of his ancestors. Thoroughly recommended reading.

The church
is to the east of the hall, set in fields that you cross
on foot to reach the walled graveyard. The main field on
this particular day was full of frisky young heifers,
which may have put some people off of the walk, but not
us. I was glad I'd worn sensible shoes, though.

The tower
can be fairly accurately dated by the badge of Simon de
Felbrigg in the spandrels of the west door. He died in
1442, and so the tower was probably started in his
lifetime, and finished by the middle of the century. The
body of the church has been extensively restored by the
Victorians, but even before this the family were busy
blocking off windows to allow their monuments to be set
against the walls inside. There are no other buildings
near; if there ever was a village, it has gone long
since.

Elbowing
our way through the inquisitive bullocks, we let
ourselves into the graveyard (for obvious reasons, the
gates close automatically) and walked past what appears
to be some kind of base for a vast unfinished monument.
The south porch is very simple after the grandeur of the
west door, and we entered a church that should have been
gloomy, but wasn't even on this dull day - the windows
that have not been blocked are full of clear glass, thank
goodness.

The church
inside has a reassuring feel of a rural early 19th
century church, the creamy painted box pews leading the
eye to a fairly simple sanctuary. There are monuments all
around, but they do not overwhelm, even the massive one
to William Windham by Grinling Gibbons. He died in 1696,
and his similarly-named grandson, who died an
impossible-seeming 117 years later (presumably father and
grandfather came late to child production) has a memorial
by Joseph Nollekens. This William Windham was secretary
of State for War under Pitt the elder, and you can see
from his bust that he knew full well he was an important
person. There is also a certain arrogance about the way
he backs into the sedilia.

The
brasses are up the middle of the nave and in the
sanctuary. The two best are one in each. The most famous
is on the southern side of the sanctuary. It depicts four
figures, two couples: an earlier Simon de Felbrigg and
Alice his wife (died 1350s) and his son Roger de Felbrigg
and Elizabeth his wife (died 1380s). The inscription is
in Norman French, and apparently records that Simon and
Elizabeth are buried here, Alice at East Harling and
Roger in Prussia where he died. I wonder what he was
doing there?

Then, at
the eastern end of the nave there are the magnificent
Simon de Felbrigg who built the church and his first wife
Margaret. They are life size. Margaret was cousin to Anne
of Bohemia, wife of Richard II, and Sir Simon is one of
only six Knights of the Garter depicted in brass.
Curiously, his dates are blank, and he is buried in
Norwich.

Another
pre-Reformation brass depicts a lady. It has been dated
as about 1480, but unfortunately she has lost her
inscription, so we don't know who she is. A pity, because
she is absolutely lovely.

There are
two good later brasses; Thomas Windham, who died in 1599,
is in the nave, and his sister Jane Coningsby, 1608, is
in the chancel.

There is a
ledger stone in Latin for Jane Windham dated 1652, which
is curious, because the Windhams were thorough-going
puritans during the Commonwealth. There are bosses on the
nave roof, although Pevsner says that some of them were
put here as part of the 1950s restoration. Also modern is
the font cover, although the font itself is a
surprisingly primitive late 14th century one.

This
church is so lovingly cared for that it is worth pointing
out that it is not in the care of the National Trust like
the Hall, or even the Churches Conservation Trust, but it
still in use as part of the Roughton group of parishes,
all of which are as open and welcoming as this one.